When I Fall in Love
by Kimmychu
Summary: All it takes is a single sentence to make all the difference in the world. A DannyFlack romance.


**When I Fall in Love**

Fandom: CSI:NY

Author: Kimmychu

Rating: FRT

Pairing: Danny/Flack

Content Warning: Floof.

Spoilers: Only a miniscule one for episode 2x24, Charge of this Post.

Summary: All it takes is a single sentence to make all the difference in the world. A Danny/Flack romance.

Disclaimer: They belong to each other, it's true. Just like peanut butter and jelly.

**( Oooo …... oooO )**

Author's Notes: I wanted to start off 2008 with a fluffy, all-around happy one-shot, so here it is, a New Year-centric story that I hope will bring a smile to your face and cheer to your day. It also happens to be the first time I've tried my hand at a songfic. I think that's the term for it, anyway. The song has the same title as the story,**When I Fall In Love**, and my favorite version has to be by the legendary **Nat King Cole**. Enjoy, and thank you in advance for your reviews:)

**( Oooo …... oooO )**

**..oOo.. **

_When I fall in love, it will be forever_

_Or I'll never fall in love_

**..oOo.. **

The evening sky is a vivid blend of dark blue and violet. It's stretching into eternity above the extensive Manhattan bridge spanning the shimmering undulations of the East river, a neverending canvas that is darkening as the sun sets and gradually disappears below the horizon. While Flack gazes with much pride at the angular skyline of his home city, he ponders on how the pale blue lights brightening the bridge are so similar in color and luster to the eyes of the man sitting next to him.

"I just don't get it, Don," Danny's saying, his arms crossed over his chest and his lips pursed in what Flack thinks is a rather cute pout. "What do they _want_ from us?"

Flack smirks. He stretches out his long legs, then replies, "Think I'm the wrong person to ask that, Danny. If I knew the answer to _that_ question, I wouldn't be _single_ any more."

Danny's chuckle is mellifluous. It does something really good to the left side of Flack's chest, warms it with an emotion that's close to making Flack burst in a really good way too.

"I dunno … I guess things hadn't gone well from the start." Danny stretches out his legs as well, tapping the sides of his boots together in a rhythmic beat. "I shoulda bailed the instant she dragged me to that Tiffany jewelry store."

It's Flack's turn to laugh. "See, at least you were smart 'nough to figure out quick that she just wanted yer money to buy herself pretty things. Where'd you say ya _met_ her, again?"

Danny is quiet. Then he mumbles, "The supermarket."

Flack bites his lower lip. "Which section?"

"Frozen foods."

This time, Danny gives him a playful punch on the arm while he laughs with glee.

Flack doesn't say anything after that and neither does Danny and it's just fine because Flack enjoys being with Danny whether they're talking or not. The fact is, he's found that Danny says most not with verbal words but with motions and meaningful glances and beguiling facial expressions.

And right now, his obtuse, pining heart is telling him that Danny's sitting so near, with his body angled towards him, with that big-eyed look of absolute trust, for a _very_ specific reason.

_Stupid thing_, Flack thinks with an inward scowl, _what do you know 'bout love, huh? _

Danny_can't_ be sitting like that because the guy feels something for him. That's just his wishful thinking, that's all. Danny can't possibly have any feelings like that for him. Danny just dumped his _girlfriend_. Just _days_ ago, on _New Year's eve_. Danny's never mentioned anything about being with guys in the past either.

_Naaaah_. His heart's got it wrong in this instance.

It's just him hoping for too much. That's all.

"I'm tired of it."

Flack gives Danny a sharp glance. "Tired of what?"

The pout puckering Danny's lips has transformed into an upside down 'U' of a frown.

"Relationships. I dunno why I even bother." Danny turns his head to look at him. "What 'bout _you_, Don? How're _you_ doin' in that department? Somebody taken yer heart already or what?"

Flack stares at the other man's attractive face, at the visage that has inhabited his nightly dreams for so long.

_Oh yeah, somebody's taken my heart, alright. _

_If only you knew that it's you, Danny._

But Flack answers, "I dunno 'bout that. It's kinda complicated."

The smile that emerges on Danny's mien is a melancholic one. "It's_always_ complicated."

A heavy silence befalls them. Danny gazes out at the river, and Flack's gazing at him instead, studying those features he's become so familiar with over the years. The orange-tinted light from the lamp post nearby is glinting off Danny's silver spectacles. It's also highlighting the gold streaks in Danny's spiky hair, and seeing them brings forth a deep nostalgia for Flack.

Danny had the same tints in his short hair when they met for the first time almost six years ago.

Flack blinks.

Six years. That's how long it's been since his heart was stolen by this smart, blue-eyed CSI with the most dazzling smile he's ever glimpsed yet.

"Do you believe in love?"

Danny's question surprises him, although he doesn't show any outward sign of that. He's very tempted to say no, to see what Danny's reaction would be, but he shoves the compulsion away. His cynical side, he doesn't mind showing to the world even though it means coming off as a callous bastard. However, to Danny … he can never lie to Danny.

Not to the one person who's proven for him that love _is_ real.

Flack looks Danny in the eye.

"Yeah. I do."

He can see from the widening of Danny's eyes that his response wasn't what Danny expected.

"Yeah, I believe love exists," he continues in a low, mellow tone. "I believe it's real. As corny as it sounds, I really believe that, well … when I fall in love, it's gonna be forever."

**..oOo..**

_In a restless world like this is,_

_Love is ended before it's begun_

**..oOo..**_  
_

Danny is having a difficult time searching for the right words to say.

Flack's sitting there next to him on the bench and it's just the two them gazing at the East river, at the magnificent light dancing across the water's surface like he's always fantasized, and somebody up there must like him a _lot_ because Flack's just said something he never, ever thought Flack would say. To _him_, no less.

"Ya gettin' all sentimental on me, Don?" he asks, smirking and yet, hoping that Flack isn't simply pulling his leg.

Flack displays one of his stunning, pearly smiles. A moment later, it softens and Flack says, "No, I'm serious. I don't just say stuff like that to anybody, ya know."

Something in Danny's chest skips a beat.

"I dunno how to explain it. I just know it's a one time thing for me. I fall in love, that's it, it's forever."

Danny slips his hands into the side pockets of his jeans. It's hard, oh so hard, to keep his hands to himself while Flack is so close to him, their arms brushing, their knees mere inches apart. Flack, the closest, most dependable, loyal friend he's ever had in his life.

Flack, the man who's haunted his dreams every night for so many years.

"Then I s'ppose ya won't laugh when I say it's a forever thing for me too."

Flack's big, blue eyes are intense, more so under the vibrant light shining down on them.

"Really?"

Danny hopes he's not just imagining the smile curling up the ends of Flack's dark pink lips. He hopes Flack isn't noticing that his face has heated up as well.

"Yeah. I mean, nobody believes in it anymore. That's why people don't think twice 'bout jumpin' from one relationship to another anymore, if ya can even call it that these days." He shrugs his shoulders. "If ya take it seriously and it really means somethin' to you, you won't just go into it without thinkin' 'bout it and consider how it's gonna change your life as well as the other person's life. It's somethin' significant, somethin'_important_ that ya shouldn't take for granted."

Danny glances at Flack, and immense warmth suffuses his being upon seeing the palpable tenderness in Flack's eyes.

_Do you look that way at anyone else_, Danny wonders quietly, _or only at me?_

"Exactly," Flack murmurs. He sounds as if he is in awe. "That's 'xactly what I think too."

Danny isn't too sure why hearing those words elicits such elation within him.

"Yeah, well …" Danny scuffs the soles of his boots against the pavement. "It's still kinda depressin' knowin' there aren't many people out there who feel the same."

He senses Flack's hand rest on his shoulder, giving it an encouraging squeeze. He immediately commits it to memory, every detail from the warmth of Flack's hand to the assurance within that strong grip to how long Flack's hand lingered on him.

"I'm sure there are other people out there who think the same." Flack pauses. "You shouldn't give up. Guy like _you?_You'll find that special someone in no time, Danny, you'll see."

Danny smiles at Flack, feeling infinitely better and at the same time, more downhearted than he ever was.

_That's just it, Don, I already have._

_And it's you._

Danny's lips part in the beginnings of a confession. But after a second, they clamp up in hesitation. He wants so badly to tell Flack the truth … and he can't. Not at the risk of losing their friendship he's come to cherish very much. It's too important to him.

_Flack_ is too important to him.

"Yeah. I guess," Danny mutters in the end, and he stares downwards at the vicinity of his feet, abruptly uninterested in his surroundings.

**..oOo..**

_And too many moonlight kisses_

_Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun_

**..oOo..**_  
_

Flack knows Danny's perturbed now.

Whatever good mood they were in before, it's vanished in a puff of smoke. Or rather, into another Danny brooding session. Danny's looking down at the ground. His brows are lowered in a despondent frown. Lips downturned. Shoulders slumped.

_Uh_ oh. Better make that a _major_ Danny brooding session.

"Danny, listen to me, 'kay?"

He wraps an arm around Danny's shoulders, and he's very pleased that Danny doesn't flinch at all and even seems to be leaning into him.

"You just got outta a lousy relationship with someone who didn't love you. It's not your loss, not at all. If anythin', _she's_ the dumbass who didn't deserve you one bit." He gives Danny a quick shake, then says, "Hey, I'm not just sayin' that, okay? She really was a selfish idiot for not seein' who you are and carin' only 'bout herself. You're an intelligent, witty guy who does everythin' with a passion. You got a real big heart that nobody else has. You're great at all kinds a' sports and you're just as great at playin' that guitar of yours."

His satisfaction grows at detecting Danny's abashed smile.

"Geez, layin' it on thick on me, aren't ya?"

Flack chuckles. "Wha, ya don't believe me? Ya think I'm just sweet talkin' ya or what?"

He scrutinizes Danny's face and has to do a double take. Wow. Is Danny_blushing?_

"C'mon, Don, I look at myself in the mirror every day. Do ya know my hair's thinnin' out? Everything's startin' to _sag_, man, and don't even get me started on _love handles_."

Flack's thick eyebrows shoot up in amusement. Danny lamenting about his_physical appearance? _

That's gotta be a new one.

"What are ya _talkin'_ 'bout, ya _nut?_Thinnin' hair? _Love handles?_" Flack snickers in good humor. "Ya wanna talk physical disfigurements, ya oughta take a look at _my_ belly."

Danny's head swivels in his direction so fast that there's an audible cracking sound.

"Don, that's not funny."

A substantial part of Flack feels lighter than air at the realization that Danny isn't downplaying the aftermath of the bomb explosion that came so close to killing him, like other people have. True, people treating him as if he's Superman helped him to swiftly get over the fact he almost _died_, but they never saw him when he was alone in his apartment, staring in silent horror at the mass of scars marring his once smooth abdomen. They never asked him whether he was truly okay, or made an effort to find out whether the explosion had left different kinds of scars on him.

Danny did. Somehow, Danny just knew it when he needed the support for a change.

Danny always does.

"I wasn't bein' funny," Flack finally replies. "If we're gonna talk 'bout physical imperfections, I gotta tell ya, I win the gold medal in _that_category." Before Danny has the chance to retort, he adds, "Danny, when somebody loves you, they don't care if you're _baldin'_ or if ya have _love handles_ or you've_scars _or anythin' trivial like that. They'll love you for _you_. Love you in your entirety. Not bits and pieces they prefer to love. They'll love _all_ of you."

He watches the indignation seep away from Danny's expression as rapid as it had arisen.

There's an easy stillness, and then -

"Aw, I know what you're doin'," Danny murmurs, sending him a poignant smile. "Ya don't hafta worry 'bout me. I'm fine."

"Yeah? Sayin' it is one thing. I _know_ you, and I know it when you really believe me or not."

Danny rolls his eyes, but the action is mitigated by a benevolent smile. "Yeah, I believe you, _'kay?_Quit worryin'."

Flack gives Danny's shoulder another squeeze. As he removes his arm from Danny's shoulders, it takes all his willpower to not touch the back of Danny's neck or sweep his fingers along Danny's lower jaw. The man has such a well-defined jaw. He's envisioned himself leaving kisses there, on that maintained beard stubble and goatee, on those cheeks and that prominent nose and those full lips -

"Don?"

Flack startles, breaks eye contact and hurriedly says, "_Good_, good. Worryin' is a waste of time anyway."

Ah, damnit, Danny's never caught him staring before.

Or has he?

Flack sits back on the bench, slouching against its curved back, looking out at the East river once more. The myriad of multi-colored city lights being mirrored on the rolling surface is absolutely mesmerizing.

But tonight, they're not as mesmerizing as Danny's profile. There isn't much in the world that can top Danny's face on his list of beautiful sights, to be honest.

His head moves on its own accord. Before he knows it, he's staring at Danny again.

God, he's got it _bad_.

**..oOo..**

_When I give my heart it will be completely_

_Or I'll never give my heart_

**..oOo..**_  
_

Danny knows Flack's staring at him again.

And he likes it. Very much.

He keeps his gaze honed on the Manhattan bridge and the multitudes of square-shaped lights representing the countless windows of equally countless high-rise buildings and skyscrapers. He stays relaxed, hands loose on his lap, his legs extended and at ease. Flack will continue to stare at him as long as he doesn't reveal any indication that he's aware of it.

Flack's been staring at him like this for _ages_.

Since the very first day they met, to be precise.

He doesn't quite get what Flack finds so fascinating about his face. At first, he assumed that perhaps Flack thought him to be odd looking or something. Maybe his glasses made him look like a geek. Or maybe it was his nose. Once he plucked up the nerve to return Flack's intense gaze, he'd been shocked to see the … _respect_ in Flack's eyes whenever the guy was staring at him. Flack had been the _last_ person he had anticipated would look at him in that manner, what with his rep and questionable past that was exposed just a while before that bomb explosion occurred and wounded Flack.

Did Flack _really_ mean everything he said minutes ago?

Did his best friend really say all that without expecting any reward?

And more importantly, what is it that could possibly cause Flack to see all those positive traits in him, to care about him like this and chase his sadness away no matter how many times it takes?

Danny swallows past a congestion in his throat.

It can't be what he suspects it is. It just _can't_.

He's not that lucky.

And even if he dredged the courage to admit his feelings, it'd hurt like hell should Flack not feel the same towards him like he does towards the handsome, admirable homicide detective.

Why would an amazing man like Flack be remotely interested in a guy like_him?_

"It's kinda funny," Flack says, jolting him out of his reverie. "Now that I think 'bout it, I haven't had a steady girlfriend for a long time either."

Danny glances at the other man. Flack doesn't appear to be forlorn in any way about his situation. It piques Danny's curiosity, and he tries his best to recollect as many details as he can about Flack's love life and what he's heard and been told about it. Flack _did_ have a point.

Flack didn't have a steady girlfriend, just like him.

For_years_. Just like him.

Danny's eyes suddenly widen in the shock of serendipity.

Flack never had a steady girlfriend for _six whole years_.

Six years … the exact amount of time they've known each other.

What are the chances of coincidence such as _that?_

"Still, I ain't givin' up on love. And _you_ shouldn't give up on it either, ya hear me?" Flack is gingerly poking him in the chest with a forefinger. "Gotta _try_, or you'll never know, right?"

Danny gazes into Flack's eyes so close, at the dark, thick eyelashes encircling them, at the smooth, pale skin of Flack's winsome face, and it strikes him like lightning how irrefutable the truth is in Flack's words. If he quits now, he'll surely never know what it means to love or be loved.

He'll never know what it means to love Flack, or be loved by him.

Is his pride worth an existence devoid of that which conquers all?

His fingers curl into the soft material of his Henley shirt.

"Yeah … you're right," Danny murmurs, and in a split second that seems to last a lifetime, he makes what is probably the most frightening decision of his life.

"Don, I -"

**..oOo..**

_And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too_

_Is when I fall in love with you_

**..oOo.. **

Danny's face is so near that the tips of their noses are more or less touching. Flack is torn, indecisive as to whether to traverse the very narrow space between them or rear back to avoid doing something he's been yearning to do for eons. Three inches is how far away Danny's lips are from his. Three inches is all there is stopping him from connecting to the fetching man in a way he's only been fortunate enough to in his dreams.

Why does Danny have to be so damn _gorgeous?_

And why isn't he paying heed to his own advice about giving love a shot?

Is his pride worth a life without it?

"Don, I -"

"I wanna kiss you so bad."

Time grinds to a sudden halt. The noises of the river lapping at the edges of the pier and ships cruising past them fade into a loaded silence. All Flack hears now is his thundering heartbeat, palpitating in disbelief and a whole lot of trepidation.

Oh shit, did he say that _aloud?_

He hastily examines Danny's facial features, and it's scaring the daylights out of him that Danny's eyes are wide to the point the whites are visible around the blue irises, that Danny's mouth is gaping in astonishment. Oh God, he did, he _did_say it out loud!

Flack sucks in a deep breath. Danny must still be stuck in a stupor because the guy hasn't budged an inch since he blurted out what he did.

_Okay, okay, this is it, this is the ONE chance ya got, Flack, so. Don't. Waste. It -_

Danny's bristly cheeks are warm against his palms. Danny's lips are even more warm, warm and dry and pliant and Flack's mind is going everywhere at once as he molds their lips together in their first kiss. _The first and the last_, a sad voice in Flack's heart whispers, and Flack ignores it, knowing within moments he's going to learn firsthand how fleeting the only kiss he'll ever have with Danny is anyway, how painful it's going to be to feel Danny smashing a fist into his face -

Danny's hands are on his shoulders, pushing him back.

He instantaneously breaks the kiss, backing off, his eyes squinted into slits, flinching in preparation for the hurtling blow to his face.

It never comes.

Flack opens one eye and peers at Danny.

Danny's breathing heavily, but there's no outrage in those lovely blue eyes. None whatsoever.

Flack blinks hard.

What the, if he didn't know any better, he'd think Danny's … speechless with … _joy_.

Danny's hands fly up and in a flash, the silver spectacles are gone, chucked onto Danny's lap and those adept hands are cupping his face now and_oh God_, Danny's kissing him like crazy now, their mouths open and their tongues dueling and their breaths mingling. It's too good to be true, didn't Ma always say when something's good to be true, it usually is -

Flack's remaining train of thought burns away at the fervor of Danny's fingers running through his cropped hair, at the urgency of Danny's caresses along his shoulders and back and flanks. Danny feels so _good_ beneath his hands too. That broad chest, those muscular arms, that flat tummy and _no_, Danny does _not_ have any love handles, damnit!

There's a clattering sound, like a lightweight object tumbling onto unyielding concrete.

Many minutes pass by with more kisses and affectionate touches and sighs before Flack separates their lips in tremendous reluctance. He can't help smiling at Danny tilting forward and tugging at his hair to resume their kissing. Oh, babe, he's meeting the _real_ Danny Messer for the first time tonight.

_His_ Danny Messer.

Flack kisses Danny on the lips one more time, then touches their foreheads together. He stares into Danny's glazed albeit bliss-filled eyes and yes, he knows Danny's seeing the same sentiment in his eyes.

"Hi," he murmurs, stroking Danny's cheek with the back of his fingers.

Danny's eyes crinkle in mirth.

"Hi."

A shared breath later, they're laughing faintly, enfolding their arms around each other and Flack rocks them to and fro, feeling like the luckiest son-of-a-gun in the whole freaking universe.

Wait. Make that _knowing_ he's the luckiest son-of-a-gun in the entire universe.

"Ya wanna go somewhere more _comfortable?_" Danny asks fondly after some time.

"If that's your way a' askin' whether I wanna kiss ya silly again and more … you bet I do."

Danny merely cackles in reply. They stand up in unison, and Flack grins to himself when Danny bends over to pick up his spectacles that had fallen off his lap during their amorous activity. Boy, Danny sure has one incredible butt. Jennifer Lopez's got _nothing_ on it.

Flack is drifting on cloud nine as they stroll from the bench to his car parked close by. They're not looking at one another or touching one another except for their intertwined little fingers, and Flack's just fine with that. There's nothing to worry about. Not anymore.

He has _all _of Danny now, after all, and that's more than he could've ever asked for and ever hoped to have.

**..oOo..**

_And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too_

_Is when I fall in love with you_

**..oOo..**_  
_

It is tranquil inside a certain apartment in a certain borough called Manhattan in a certain city people say never sleeps.

There are two men, dressed in comfy tank tops and long track pants, who are sprawled contentedly on their couch in the living area. The lovers are in an intimate cuddle while they watch a live broadcast of Times Square bustling with crowds of merry, high-spirited people awaiting the lowering of the Times Square Ball in profound excitement.

The taller of the two snorts in amusement when the camera zooms in on a young couple already making out before the countdown's even begun. The other man who's wearing spectacles gives his partner a good-natured jab in the side, and the taller guy snickers.

"Hey, what was that for?" he says with a sideways smile to the shorter man in his embrace.

"Don't laugh, Don. _You're_ worse than they are when the Ball drops!"

"Am not!"

"Are_to! _I oughta know, _I'm_ the guy whose face you suck off every year!"

"That ain't the only thing a' yours I suck off, Danny, if ya know what I mea-"

Don's sentence alters into a high-pitched laugh the instant Danny's fingers dig into his flanks and scratch at his underarms, tickling him in all his weak spots, causing him to roll on top of the cushions.

"Stop it! _Stop_ it, Danny!_ Hahahahah!_"

Danny simply laughs with him, tickling him more than ever.

"'Ten! Nine! _Eight!_'"

"Danny, the countdown's startin'!"

Danny halts his tickle assault on his lover and bounces into a sitting position on the couch to gaze at the television once more. Don, on the other hand, is satisfied with lounging on the sofa, stroking Danny's lower back and tracing the tattoo there. It's similar to the tribal one Danny has on his upper right arm, but the one on Danny's lower back is personal to Don; it commemorates their marriage that took place sixteen years ago.

They watch the time ball made from crystal and electric lights drop past the halfway point down the pole on the One Times Square building.

"'_Seven!_Six! _Five!_'"

Don sits upright, slides his arms around Danny's midriff and nuzzles his face in the side of Danny's neck.

"'_FOUR!__THREE! TWO!_'"

Danny's turned around to face him, and Don sees that his partner's already taken off his spectacles. He lifts Danny's hand to his cheek and rubs his face against it, sensing the metal coolness of the wedding ring on Danny's third left finger upon his skin.

"'_ONE!_'"

Danny gently nudges him on the chin, and Don raises his head to smile at the other man.

"'HAPPY NEW _YEAAAAAAAAR!_'"

Their first kiss of this new year is as sublime and divine as the first kiss they ever had. Both men, with grey streaks in their hair and a few more wrinkles here and there, marvel at how it only seems like yesterday that they sat on that bench, gazing out at the East river, not knowing how one felt about the other till Don's big mouth ran itself.

And Danny is grateful each and every day that it did just that.

"I still wanna kiss ya so bad," Don murmurs into Danny's lips, and they bow up in an adoring smile at the avowal that has become both men's most cherished one of all.

Don has carried Danny in his arms, Danny's legs wrapped around his lover's waist and his arms around those wide shoulders, and they're kissing all over again as Flack heads for their bedroom. They have only one thing on their minds now, and with the next two days off from the toils of being first-grade detectives, they're going to have one hell of a fantastic time engaging in that one thing many,_many_ times.

Danny is laid on the bed with care and thoughtfulness that has never waned.

"Happy New Year, Don," Danny whispers, reaching out to caress the side of Don's crinkled visage that is as handsome as it ever was.

"Happy New Year, Danny," Don replies, and they smile and murmur endearments and love into each other's mouths, both gratified and humbled by the prospect of living the next twenty years together.

Living a life of honest, real love, as it should be.

**Fin.**


End file.
